


There's Snow Place Like Home

by cielsdemon



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Snow Day, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-06 05:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14050014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cielsdemon/pseuds/cielsdemon
Summary: Will looks toward the window. Outside, snow swirls in the air, weighing down tree branches and smothering the daffodils in his garden that had just begun to sprout. It’s late March—winter weather should be over with by now. Yet, here he is, on mandatory snow-caused leave, watching his garden freeze.





	There's Snow Place Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> When I woke up this morning to a blizzard outside my window I was so inspired I sat right down and wrote this up in about two hours. I know it's March and we're probably tired of snow fics, but I couldn't resist! I love the snow so much.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

 

Someone is knocking on his door.

 

Will looks toward the window. Outside, snow swirls in the air, weighing down tree branches and smothering the daffodils in his garden that had just begun to sprout. It’s late March—winter weather should be over with by now. Yet, here he is, on mandatory snow-caused leave, watching his garden freeze.

 

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

 

Who is at the door?

 

Pushing his feet into his slippers, Will stands to answer the door. “Yes?” he calls, hand on the knob.

 

“William!” _Ah_ , he thinks, _of course_. Who else would it be?

 

“No thank you, Sutcliff. Whatever it is you want, I’m not interested.”

 

“Will!” More pounding shakes the door. “Open up!”

 

For some wild, unknown reason, he does. On his front step stands no other than Grell Sutcliff. If anyone was going to look good during a blizzard, it would be her. In a fur-lined red coat and matching boots, she’s a candy striped vision. Will stares at her, taking it in. Grell is always so much to take in.

 

“Oh, good,” she says. “You’re home.” Without asking, she sweeps inside and lowers her hood.

 

“Yes,” Will replies, closing the door against the icy wind. “We were asked to stay home thanks to the inclement weather. Why aren’t you home?”

 

As if he hadn’t spoken, Grell carries right on. “Have you been out, Will? Oh, it’s glorious. Everything is icy and white and _ooh!_ ” She shivers, grinning at him. “Let’s go for a walk!”

 

Will looks toward the window. A strong gust of wind sends a spray of snow against the panes. “No, thank you.” Again, she ignores him. She strides past him into the bedroom and begins rifling through his drawers, tossing clothing onto his bed. Long underwear, thick socks, a sturdy pair of pants. She finds a plain long-sleeved shirt and a red sweater he didn’t know he owned and adds it to the pile.

 

“My love,” she says, muffled from inside his closet. “Where are those snow boots I bought you? Aha!” She straightens, holding them triumphantly aloft. “Get dressed. I’m going to commandeer your kettle for a moment. I expect you by the door when my cocoa is ready!”

 

Despite his best intentions, Will is dressed by the door within the time it takes Grell to make cocoa. She returns with two thermoses in hand and grins at him as she places them on the table by the door. “Look at you!” She plucks his scarf off the coat rack and winds it around his neck, tucking it beneath his chin as Will laments the part of him that inevitably bends to Grell’s will.

 

He puts on his own coat, buttons it, and accepts the gloves Grell hands him with little more than a sigh. “Here,” she says, passing him one of the thermoses. She winks. “I put a little extra warmth in there for us.”

 

“Alcohol.” Will sniffs the drink and takes a careful sip. It’s too sweet to taste the alcohol and plenty warm enough to fortify him for the blizzard outside. “Not bad.”

 

Grell’s smile is beautific. After tugging a hat down around his ears and sliding her own gloves back on, she decides they’re ready to go out. Thanks to the layers she made him wear, the only part of him that feels the cold is his face. The drink helps with that.

 

They circle his neighborhood that, as Grell is fond of gasping every time they pass a snow encrusted tree, “Looks like a winder wonderland, William!” He will admit the snow does look nice. It’s no longer falling heavily enough to obscure their vision and the houses are quite picturesque covered in white.

 

He doesn’t know where she was hiding it, but Grell’s camera appears halfway through their stroll and she starts snapping pictures. Of the snow, of the trees, of him. She crowds close and puts her arms around him to snap a self-shot portrait of the two of them. Her lips, when they touch his cheek, are still warm.

 

As they approach his house and the end of their walk, Grell releases his hand and scoops a pile of snow off the fence outside his yard.

 

“I’m glad we had one more big snow,” she says, playing with the snow between her fingers. “The cold is so romantic, don’t you think, Will?”

 

He frowns, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “It’s cold,” he says. “I don’t think two ways about it.” Grell sighs at him, turning away. Then she whirls around and throws the snow she was playing with straight into his face. It’s cold and he curses, eyes reopening as slush drips off his cheeks. Across from him, Grell is holding her stomach and howling with laughter.

 

Not for long.

 

Will abandons the thermoses—which somehow he was forced to carry all the way home—and grabs a handful of snow off the ground. With a squeal, Grell spins and runs, hopping over his fence and making a beeline for his front door. The ball of snow Will throws hits her right in the back of the head and she turns on him, grinning wildly.

 

The ensuing war is quick but brutal. They destroy the pristine blanket of snow in his yard by running back and forth through it, hurling increasingly large balls of snow at each other. By the end of it, they’re both dripping. Strands of wet red hair have slipped out of Grell’s ponytail and the knees of Will’s pants are soaked from when Grell tripped him into a snowbank.

 

At one point, Grell sneaks up on him and shoves a handful of freezing slush down the back of his coat. The urge to summon his scythe is strong. In the time it takes him to calm down, Grell escapes, darting off across the yard to hide.

 

Fortunately, her red coat is somewhat of a dead giveaway. Will discovers her hiding place with ease and decides he _will_ summon his scythe. The advanced set of clippers used for trimming souls also function in the regular way. Will snips a branch a meter or so above Grell and sends a pile of snow toppling onto her head. With a scream, she’s buried under it and he laughs up until the point she kicks him in the knee and sends him collapsing into the snow beside her.

 

“Oh, Heavens,” Will says, still chuckling softly. Flat on his back in the snow with numb fingers, face stinging from the cold, and he’s laughing. Beside him, Grell is making a snow angel and when she finishes, Jumps from the ground into the space above Will and lands on him, knocking the air out of his lungs.

 

Beaming down at him, she frames his face with her cold hands and strokes his tingling cheeks. “You had fun today.” It’s not a question, so Will doesn’t answer. “Admit it.” When he doesn’t do so immediately, she squeezes his face in one hand and reaches beside his head for a handful of snow, which she holds threateningly over him.

 

“I had fun!” Will says quickly, jerking his head out of Grell’s grasp. She drops the snow and smiles at him again. “I did, Grell.”

 

“Good,” she says warmly. “So did I.” She leans in and rubs their noses together, one red, freezing tip to another. Will huffs to hide his smile.

 

“Now,” he says. “Can we please go inside? I can’t feel my toes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudo or comment on your way out please!
> 
> [Blog :)](http://cielsdemon.tumblr.com)


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